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Denethor POV - 1 of 3
In which Denethor feels joy, remembers a summer night, is scolded by a fool, watches a fight, hits his targets, hears an oath, confounds a wizard, and reaches for hope.
Minas Tirith, Loëndë, 2978 T.A.
Thorongil's words were sincerely meant and the joy on his face came from his heart, not his cup. Denethor had been drinking himself through most of the feast, for toasts had been offered by all, and the wine coursed through his blood and thoughts, making him giddy. You are happy for us. Thorongil listed slightly, so Denethor placed a hand on the captain's shoulder to steady him, Thorongil grasping Denethor's shoulder in return. The man's grey eyes captured Denethor's, and it was impossible to look away. There was something in them that Denethor had only ever seen in Finduilas' gaze and in his one clear view of the mariner's face. It made him wish to weep and tell this strange man all the sorrows he felt, all the hope that he could not allow to rest in his heart, all the dreams he had ever had and had set aside.
'Congratulations, Warden! And you, Lady Finduilas!' Denethor spun around, putting himself between Finduilas and the intruder. The leader of the éored accompanying Princess Hilda, Éomund, was grinning at him foolishly, smelling of ale. 'Though the Eorlingas have bested you in this.'
'What do you mean,' Denethor curtly replied, disliking the man's familiarity. He had not much cared for him the previous spring when he accompanied Prince Théoden to the Captain's Council.
'Why, Théoden will have a son sometime this fall,' was Éomund's reply, his grin becoming a leer. 'The sons of Eorl are a virile line.'
'My felicitations to Prince Théoden.' Denethor made his voice and expression cold.
Éomund did not notice, turning to the younger men. 'Are you ready for the tourney tomorrow, my lords?' Gethron, Morvorin and Imrahil said yes and began discussing what contests they would enter. Assuming you're not all too hung-over to stand. The younger men staggered off, loudly proclaiming what feats they would perform.
Finduilas squeezed Denethor's arm to get his attention. When he looked on her, his sour mood slipped away. 'Forgive me, Denethor,' she said quietly, 'I should have told you sooner of Prince Théoden's good news. Hilda told me yesterday.'
'You had the feast to distract you,' he answered, 'and the news could keep.'
'What contests will you venture, cousin?' Borondir cheerfully asked Denethor.
'I don't know.'
'The archery, of course,' Marlong said.
Borondir raised a cup 'You'll win that. You should do well in the swords.'
'But not win.' Denethor nodded to Thorongil. It was easy to be agreeable tonight, especially to the captain. 'I know who the best swordsman is. Second is the only…'
'No.' The men looked at Finduilas. She eyed Denethor sternly. 'No swords.'
'You shan't do that.'
'Why not?'
'I cannot bear to see anyone strike you.'
'Finduilas, there is no…'
'No swords,' she stubbornly repeated.
'You won't win this contest, either, cousin' Borondir chuckled. Marlong and Thorongil were grinning. 'The Lady has commanded, and you must obey.'
Denethor nodded his head to Finduilas. 'As you wish.'
'And now I wish to go home. I am tired,' she answered, taking his arm. It took many minutes to edge their way through the guests to the door of Merethrond and more to walk past the many well-wishers who waited for them upon the greensward. Faintly, he heard sounds of revelry from lower in the City. When they reached the house, Finduilas tugged his hand. 'Let us go to the roof, friend.'
'I thought you were tired.'
'I am, but I wish to see the City before I go to sleep.' Denethor kept a firm arm around her to make sure Finduilas did not slip or stumble on the worn treads. When they emerged on the roof, the starlight made it glitter. The heavens were thickly dusted, each gem of light distinct. The purple blossoms on the vine over the arbor made the air sweet. Finduilas laughed and held her arms up to the light. 'Look, friend, look how beautiful it is!' She strode to the eastern edge to look down on the City. There was no hesitation in her tonight as there often was when she faced east. Denethor followed slowly, enjoying the starlit sight of her walking, her hair a darker shade of the evening, the soft folds of her dress catching the curves of her form. Below, the City celebrated. Music, song and voices contested with each other, echoing against the stone. Lamps and torches made the lanes bright, and there was a bonfire in almost every fountain square. Beyond the City, more fires burned among the tents. Denethor wondered what Minas Tirith looked like from Osgiliath. He placed a hand on the wall, seeking the ancient voice, swiftly rewarded by a gentle murmur telling a tale of great tenderness, remembering things wrought anew.
Finduilas tucked herself into the crook of his arm. Denethor touched Finduilas' belly with his other hand, fingers curving across it. She nestled more closely against him, slipping her arms around him. 'Are you angry with me, Denethor?'
'What?' He looked at Finduilas in confusion, his mind still dulled by wine. 'Angry? Why would I be angry?'
'I have been ordering you much about today. You have said little to me since this morning.'
'I have questions, but I am not angry. Why are you so opposed to me being in the sword contests? Truly because you fear to see me struck?'
'Yes, at least in part. I know how rough they can be.'
'Practice swords…'
'…can still do harm. But you know you would be bested by Thorongil, so you should not allow that to happen in front of so many.'
'Will I not seem fearful instead, avoiding a contest with a better?'
'Not if you refrain in order to humor your pregnant wife. Wives are temperamental creatures at such times, you know.'
'I would never have guessed.' He did not duck the light slap she gave him, but chuckled and kissed her brow.
'So now you may sit with me and let others come to seek your favor.' Finduilas looked away, fidgeting. 'Though you will have to share the attention with the Steward.' Denethor did not answer. 'He was happy.'
'He does not deserve it. He has done all he can to keep it from ever happening.'
Denethor felt more than heard Finduilas' sigh. 'Do not think I shall ever forget that. I lived in dread last year. But what he deserves is a different matter from how we will make use of him. You will have to share, at least in such settings.'
He sighed himself and let go of her. 'I wish it not, but I may not deny your counsel.' Finduilas took his hand. 'I think I could more easily bear to see rule pass to Thorongil than to see you humble yourself to the Steward. Is that not what you wish?'
'I wish for you to have what you most desire, Denethor.'
He kissed her. 'I have that.' She smiled and returned the kiss, then gazed out at the eastern night for several minutes. He leaned on the wall and watched her.
'On a summer evening years ago, we stood upon this roof, unmindful of what would be, and we spoke of fateful things.'
'I remember.'
'You spoke then, friend, of never wishing a child, for fear of what fate you would leave him.' He waited, unsure what she wished to hear. Her voice had a hint of sharpness when she spoke again. 'I have heard nothing from you since I told you of our child, if you are pleased or not.'
'I am pleased.'
'Are you afraid? Of that?' She pointed east. 'Of this?' Finduilas took his hand and placed it on her belly. 'I would know.'
Denethor wished he had not drunk so much wine at the feast. His giddiness had passed and now he just felt stupid. 'I don't know. I want you to have a child.'
'And for yourself?'
'You. Just you.' Denethor kissed her again, pulling her tightly against him. 'Yes. I fear. I see… I see little to give me hope. Save you. I only want to See you.' He knew he was speaking foolishness, but Finduilas laughed. It was low and rich, like the voice in the stone.
'And times before have been dark, yet hope was found,' she said, stroking his face. 'Within our hearts, there it is to be found.' Softly she chanted,
Upon the cusp of summer high,
They stood beneath the star-strewn sky
To pledge their love and swear their souls.
'Turgon's child, I give thee whole
My very life. Our fates entwined,
Our fortunes forged to each in kind,
And doom beyond we shall not fear.'
Denethor placed a finger on her lips, whispering the next words in return,
Idril clasped his hands, 'My dear
And gentle love, my guiding star.
Hope summoned thee. From lands afar
You came and shared an inner-fire
And so illumed my heart. No dire
Thought, no shadow drear, lies within…
And was himself silenced with a kiss. When it ended, he slipped his arm around her waist and walked them to the stair.
Finduilas had no pity for Imrahil the next morning, nor for any of his hung-over companions. Moraen and Wren eagerly joined in the teasing. Denethor considered himself lucky to just be thirsty and sour-breathed. Hilda arrived soon from the guest house to accompany them down to the tourney. Denethor was both surprised and pleased to see Aiavalë waiting for them near the archives, veil in place. Gethron and Beregar made sure there were a dozen Queen's Men to escort their walk. All the men were needed. When word got out that the Lady was passing by, the houses emptied to get a glimpse of her, particularly the whorehouses. There had been some talk after the plague passed to leave them closed, but Finduilas had spoken privately to Warden Lhûn who made sure the red flags were removed from the doors.
The horse contests – races and feats with spears and swords mostly, though there would be some archery – would be conducted north of the City to avoid the tents before the gate. Finduilas would have to stay in the City and watch from the walls as it was too far to walk and she could not risk riding. Gaerhûl would go into one race, a run beside the road for a league north and back.
When they reached the court before the Great Gates, Denethor bade Finduilas goodbye so she could go with the other women atop the north curve of the first wall where a canopy had been strung.
'What do you mean, stay?' Hilda demanded. 'You'll see nothing from up there!'
'I don't wish to ride in my condition,' Finduilas answered.
'Every Rohirric woman does. How else do you get anywhere?'
'Perhaps for horse women,' Denethor began, but Hilda cut him off with a snort.
'Mother rode until she was six months along! You just have to sit sideways and not go fast. Come, I'll show you.' Hilda grabbed Finduilas' hand and pulled her along towards a small knot of riders and their steeds standing not far from the gate, obviously waiting for Hilda. Éomund was among them. A pair of horses stood loose next the others. They whinnied and trotted towards the women. In a second, Denethor recognized Gull and realized the other must be Hilda's steed, another of the mearas. Human greeting were also exchanged, and Denethor could not help but note that Éomund was in little better shape than Imrahil, Gethron and Morvorin.
'Éomund, give me a boost,' Hilda ordered. In a quick motion, she was up on her horse, sitting bareback with one leg tucked under her. 'See? Like this, not forked over. When Gull walks, your babe will be as safe as in your arms.'
Imrahil shook his head. 'No. She could fall.'
Hilda was indignant. 'Fall? Gull would not allow that to happen!' The mare snorted and stamped in agreement, rolling her eyes at thought of allowing her friend to come to harm. Gull nuzzled Finduilas' face, whickering softly.
'It will be all right, Denethor. Hilda and Gull know what they are doing. Help me up.' Reluctantly, Denethor boosted her onto the mare. Finduilas sat very still for a moment, then laughed and patted Gull's shoulder. 'Go get Gaerhûl. We will wait for you here.'
'Horses for the rest of us ladies, too!' Moraen cheerfully commanded. Within the hour, they were all riding north along the wall. Even Aeluin came with them, sitting behind Wren and looking anxious. Denethor doubted she had ever ridden before. Gaerhûl had been fractious when they started, but a sharp nip from Gull made him settle down. Once at the tourney grounds, Finduilas and the women dismounted and found a shady spot under some trees. Not long afterwards, a small cart pulled by a few of the Hunt drew up with camp chairs and refreshments for them. Denethor gave Beregar a nod of approval for arranging it so quickly.
'Lord Denethor, good morning!' Thorongil bowed with a smile, seemingly unaffected by his celebrations of the evening before. Brandir was with him and embraced Denethor strongly.
'Brother! I think I am even happier this morn than I was yester eve.' Brandir was not hung-over, either, not that he ever was. 'You have been saving this news, haven't you?'
Thorongil made no secret that he was listening. 'Yes. Finduilas wished to do so on a day for children.'
Brandir cocked his head to the side, a keen look in his eye. 'I think you have finally taken a fool's advice to stop being a fool.'
I would have stopped ere now, save for… Denethor looked on Thorongil coolly. The captain's cheer faded and he looked away. It may not have been your wish, but it was your doing. 'Yes, brother, I did, though Finduilas wishes I had followed your counsel sooner.'
'So heed your fool!' Brandir chuckled, embracing him again. 'And rethink your other foolishness,' he murmured in Denethor's ear. With a kiss, Brandir went to the women. Denethor walked towards where a knot of men stood deciding how the events would fall, Thorongil falling into step beside him.
The day went by in a noisy cloud of dust, hooves, and shouts. The Rohirrim won all but one of the contests, as expected, though lesser prizes went to a number of Gondorians. Thorongil was strong in all his contests and Denethor suspected him of allowing Éomund to win at swords. Lord Forlong surprised many with his excellence with a spear, and very nearly won the challenge for spearing straw rings hung at different levels, his impressive bulk not preventing him from reaching far or low for the targets. Beregar and Imrahil did the best of the Dúnedain in a contest involving a pair, though they could not win a prize against the magnificent performance of the Rohirrim. Denethor had decided not to attempt archery from horseback as he had not enough practice, and left Gondor's honor in Marlong's capable hands. The captain did not disappoint, scoring Gondor's only victory of the day. Almost Denethor gave Gondor another, but Gaerhûl was not able to outlast his better conditioned rival in the last three furlongs, particularly since the other steed's rider was smaller than Denethor and less of a burden to carry.
'You, fat nag,' Denethor scolded the stallion as he walked him out after the race, 'you need to run more often. Not that I will be taking you out much this summer. We're both staying near our ladies this season.' Gaerhûl did not object to this prospect. Denethor glanced towards the trees. Not unless the forces of Mordor overrun the Pelennor am I leaving you, Alquallë.
A cheer went up from the horsemen as someone did something clever with a spear. Along the road, people traveled each way, many pausing to watch the tourney for a while before continuing their journey. One horseman in particular caught Denethor's eye. An old man in grey on a small brown horse stared at the crowd, not the contest. His hand raised a fraction and nodded his head. Denethor did not bother to look at who Mithrandir was signaling. The wizard settled his hat back on his head before continuing to the City. Denethor walked swiftly to where the pups were resting at the edge of the trees. He motioned for one to come with him. 'Do you see the old man on the brown horse?' The boy nodded. 'Follow him. Watch where he goes. Report to Borthand.' The lad trotted after the wizard. Denethor finished walking Gaerhûl out, then joined the ladies for the rest of the afternoon.
The return ride to the City was boisterous, the younger men full of brags and the women pelting them with cheerful insults. Aeluin sat behind Beregar for the return, looking happier than on the ride out. In the midst was Gull bearing Finduilas, walking as calmly as through an empty field. Denethor could not take his eyes off them. Nothing bound Gull to Finduilas' will save her love for the woman and Finduilas had only her trust in the mare to guide them both. I must be as Gull, and bear you where you guide me. I must be as brave as you. When they came to the gates, Denethor was certain to thank Gull. The mare nickered and lipped his cheek before trotting away with Hilda's mare. Gaerhûl whinnied, wishing to follow. Denethor pitied the poor stable hand who had to return the stallion to his stall.
Beregar and Aeluin hurried ahead of the rest and a simple but wonderful meal awaited them on the roof top of the Stewards House. The place rang with conversation and toasts until late. Forlong and Almiel were there, Aiavalë stayed and even spoke a few times, and Brandir made everyone laugh. The only one missing was Thorongil, for he had turned aside at his own house with a vague excuse of needing to see to something. Or someone. Denethor put aside thought of the wizard during the meal, allowing himself simply to be a happy man with a pregnant wife.
After Denethor bade farewell to the last guests at the front door, he went to the kitchen court and waited. Borthand showed up within a few minutes.
'What did he do?'
'Took rooms in a house in the sixth circle. Then he looked about for a lad to take a note.' Borthand grinned. 'Ingold earned himself a penny.'
'To whom?'
'The Lord Steward. Not Ingold, of course. He gave it to a Tower servant, but waited and got to bring one back. No penny for that from the Tower,' Borthand's voice signaled his disapproval, 'but the old fellow, he gave Ingold a nice piece of cheese for the deed.'
'Since then?'
'Went to the Tower, and…'
'When? How long?'
'Upon getting his letter. Still there. We're watching.'
'Watch him until he leaves the City.'
'Yes, my lord.' Borthand bowed and started to leave, then hesitated. 'We, the pups… the Hunt gives the Lady and you our congratulations, my lord. Not meaning to be impertinent.' Borthand's voice trailed off into silence.
The only light in the court came dimly through a small, opaque window near the kitchen door. The boy's face was half-shadowed, but his eyes caught the light, making them shine. Whose son are you? Who could make a life and discard it, like a poorly scribed page or a wrongly-fletched arrow? Inside his chest, something clenched, and Denethor felt anger at whoever sired this child. 'Thank you. I will offer your good wishes to Lady Finduilas. They will please her.' Borthand grinned and bowed again before darting off into the night.
Finduilas was already in bed when he went upstairs. Denethor undressed and sat next to her. He liked to look at her this way, allow his hands to travel over her, trying to find the differences that spoke of the changes within her. The light of her soul, that was different. If he had been paying attention when he had first returned from Dol Amroth, had not allowed anger to rule him, he would have known ere she said a word just from that. Not that he minded the other changes. She was getting fatter and softer all over. Denethor could see it best in her face and neck. The lines and shadows from the winter were gone, and the hollows of the spring were filling. He hoped she would gain more flesh over her ribs and hips. Finduilas smiled and stretched under his caresses. Where once this would have roused him thoroughly, he felt only some warmth spread through his chest and loins. He was glad he knew how to please her with his mouth because it was becoming difficult to mate her. Denethor wondered if he looked different to Finduilas, if she could see a change in his heart; not a diminishment of love, but of want. I have what I want.
Minas Tirith, 2 July, 2978 T.A.
Today, the tourney moved within the walls, into the court behind the Great Gates. Early in the morning, wagons had brought in several loads of dirt, while barrows of shavings from the woodworkers' shops along the north wall of the first circle were wheeled over and dumped nearby. A dozen youngsters were set to work with rakes to find and remove the large stones and mix the shavings and soil. By the time Denethor, Finduilas and their party arrived, a rope was strung around the sparring ground and a pavilion stood immediately before the stone pier, ready for them and other noble watchers. The first circle wall was already filling with women, children and men who would not be part of the fighting. The gates themselves stood open, offering a fine view of the verdant Pelennor. Denethor looked longingly at the ring. 'Alquallë, it really…'
'No. If you do, I will leave.' Finduilas sweetly said.
Around them, chairs were being set out in the pavilion. The center seat was for the Steward, of course. Finduilas directed guardsmen and pups to place her own and Denethor's seats to one side where they would get afternoon shade from the pier. Imrahil excused himself to join Beregar outside the gate where the swordsmen were gathering. With a last look and a sigh, Denethor turned his attention to getting the women settled. Aiavalë again was there, veiled but not still and hidden as she usually was at such gatherings. He wondered how she and Maiaberiel were going to share close space for the better part of a day and decided it could be amusing. They might have their own bout. I should find them swords. Wren departed for the gates as soon as she learned the Steward was to be there, Marlong and one of the pups acting as her escort. Denethor watched them go and did not think it his imagination that Marlong was being very attentive to Wren of late. He made a mental note to ask Finduilas what she knew once the tourney had finished. Moraen, Hilda and Almiel chattered happily. When Aeluin would have left for a more modest seat, Finduilas took her hand and bade her to remain.
'Lord Denethor, good morning.' Denethor turned to see Halmir and Thorongil nearby. The Lost bowed crisply, silvered head and dark moving in unison.
'Captain, Lieutenant, good morrow. Halmir, I did not expect to see you here.'
'I came to pay my regards, sir,' he replied stiffly. 'It is only for the day, and there is no sign of aught stirring…'
Denethor held up a hand to forestall him. 'I did not think you would leave the garrison unguarded, Lieutenant. I hope you will honor the Lady by enjoying today's celebration.' Halmir glanced towards Finduilas and his stony gaze took on a softer cast. 'Come, give your good wishes to her directly.' Denethor led them to Finduilas. 'My lady, Halmir the Lost wishes to pay you his regards.'
Finduilas smiled and held out her hands to Halmir. 'I am pleased you have come to the City, Halmir. Are you here for the tourney?'
For a moment the man did nothing but stare at her, face filled with wonder, then he tentatively took her hands. 'Yes, if you wish it. I only came to…' His voice tapered off.
'See me?' Finduilas finished for him. Halmir nodded. She gave him a light kiss on the cheek. 'I remember your concern for my safety when I went to Osgiliath. I know not how you live in such danger all the time, but I thank you for your service and sacrifice.'
Halmir stepped back and bowed deeply. 'May I continue to be worthy of your kind regard, my lady.' He nodded to Denethor, turned on his heel, and strode towards the gates. Denethor saw him signal to Thorongil, who bowed quickly to Finduilas and himself before hurrying after the elder Lost.
Finduilas watched them go, a curious expression on her face. Denethor touched her hand to get her attention and raised an eyebrow. She shook her head. 'He stares as strangely as Thorongil once did,' she said softly, 'as though he sees something he both dreads and desires.' Her eyes strayed back to the two men. 'He does not wish to be found.' A cheer behind them made them both turn. The Steward approached, accompanied by Maiaberiel and Brandir, Amlach of Pelargir trailing behind. 'Alas, friend, we have been found out.'
They greeted the Steward without incident and gladly stepped aside for others to pay their respects. Aiavalë merely stared coldly at her kin and turned back to the ring. Unfortunately, Brandir intended to participate in the contests and was quickly gone beyond the gates.
When the contests began, there was no time to worry about who was sitting near, for there was too much to watch. The morning was filled with bouts in the ring before the pavilion and in the regular practice yards beyond the gates. The fights went quickly, the winners advancing to the next match after only a few minutes rest while the defeated joined the crowd shouting encouragement to their fellows. Imrahil acquitted himself well, but suffered defeat near noontide and joined them in the pavilion, soon followed by Morvorin.
The lieutenants and yardmasters juggled the pairings carefully, giving all who wished to contest a chance, but keeping the best swordsmen apart so that they would not defeat each other too soon. By afternoon, the hundreds of the morning had been whittled down to thirty-two men and all the bouts moved inside the gate. As Denethor expected, both Thorongil and Halmir were among the finalists – he knew full well their swordsmanship. They would probably contest for the crown. Forlong was also there. What the man lacked in agility he made up for in power. Gethron and several of the Queen's Men were there, and a large number of the Tower Guard, though no Eorling had made it so far. Some voiced surprise that Brandir had earned a spot; Denethor just smiled to himself, remembering the regular drubbings his brother-in-law had given him when they learned arms. Only fools underestimate the Fool. At first, Denethor thought Beregar was attending Brandir, then realized that the young man had won a place, too.
Haldan, the lieutenant of the first circle garrison, Marlong, Borondir and the yardmasters gathered with Denethor to decide who would be matched for the last rounds. As each pair came out, they would bow to the Steward before taking their places. Finduilas' guardsmen also bowed to her. Haldan and Marlong exchanged refereeing the bouts. When the match ended, the fighters were escorted from the ring by their wife or beloved, or a kinswoman if they had neither. Thorongil and Halmir did not wait after their victories, but bowed and swiftly walked to the side.
Last up in the first round was Beregar and a seasoned Tower Guard. It was expected that the guard would win, but Denethor was certain that the Hound would do well, even in defeat. Beregar's face was stern and his bearing proud as he bowed deeply to both the Steward and the Lady. Denethor heard murmurs in the crowd as people looked at the young man intently. Beregar had grown a beard in the last year, and Denethor knew it made the resemblance to himself all the stronger. None stared more keenly than Ecthelion. Do you know your kinship to the Hound, or can you only wonder? When the fight was joined, Beregar prevailed. Off to the side, the Hunt yipped and howled in celebration while the women of the Stewards House all cheered.
'Go on! Go!' Finduilas told Aeluin, giving the woman a small shove to make her join Beregar in the ring. Aeluin stopped halfway across the dirt, intimidated by the sound and all the watchers, but Beregar came to her and took her hand, saying something that made her smile. 'Good,' Finduilas said softly under her breath, 'now kiss him, you idiot!' Aeluin stood on tiptoe and placed a small kiss on Beregar's cheek, eliciting a cheer all around, but Finduilas sighed. 'It will have to do, I guess' she grumbled.
Denethor did not have time to inquire about these interesting comments, for Erellont, lieutenant of the Tower Guards, was pulling on his arm. 'That's your man, right?'
'I want him for the Guard.' Beregar and Aeluin were standing near the corner of the pavilion now. Erellont motioned him closer. 'One as good as you should be with the Guard.'
'I guard the Lady,' Beregar calmly replied. He looked at Aeluin and said, smiling, 'And I guard my lady.' This made Aeluin giggle and blush.
'You would guard the Citadel, and all ladies within…'
'The Lady chose him as her guard. So he will remain until released,' Denethor said. 'Good day, Lieutenant.' The man looked like he wished to argue, but nodded and left.
The next round was set up quickly, with sixteen still undefeated. Thorongil and Halmir had advanced, as had Gethron, Brandir, Beregar and Forlong. The heat was beginning to tell on the stout lord, and he was defeated by a Queen's Man, Hunthor, in the second round. Gethron and Brandir were also beaten, having been matched against Thorongil and Halmir respectively, but Beregar beat a garrison soldier to advance. For the third round, there were the Lost, the Hound, Hunthor, two Tower Guards and two garrison men. Thorongil and Beregar were paired to the Tower Guards and won, while Halmir and Hunthor defeated their garrison opponents. Thorongil made short work of Hunthor on the fourth round.
Denethor felt a great deal of pride when Beregar walked out to face Halmir. Imrahil was leading the Hunt in a raucous cheer in support of their leader, and the crowd was clearly behind the young man. When Marlong dropped his hand, indicating the bout could begin, neither moved for several heartbeat. Slowly, they began to circle, their motions calculated rather than cautious. Halmir lunged first, was parried, whirled, and got in a sharp rap on Beregar's shoulder. The younger man attacked, scoring his own touch. They exchanged blows and parries, evenly matched, the crowd shouting encouragement to both. It was the longest fight of the tourney. In the end, Halmir reached, Beregar ducked, then shifted, striking low and up, and the Lost's sword fell to the dirt. The two stared at each other, panting. Halmir drew himself up and bowed, acknowledging Beregar's victory, and bowed again to Aeluin when she came out to claim her husband. When the Lost would have left the ring alone, Finduilas stood and walked across the dirt to him. He knelt to her before taking her hand and allowing himself to be led away.
Thorongil's final victory was an embarrassment, for Beregar was too spent to give a full fight, and the captain had only words of praise for him afterwards. Many toasts were offered to Beregar as he slowly walked back to the Citadel, Aeluin on his arm. Denethor watched Ecthelion watch his grandson the entire way.
'Denethor!' Thorongil waved from the far side of the archery yard. Denethor came over. 'Your turn, today,' the captain said with a quick smile and a nod at the bow in Denethor's hand.
'We'll see. I'm not in full practice.'
'Halmir returned to Osgiliath this morning.'
'I know.' Denethor also knew that the wizard had paid a call upon the two Lost at Thorongil's house the evening before, after having spent the day in the archives. Aiavalë had told him about the archival visit on the walk down. Mairen had reported to her that Mithrandir had asked to be shown histories of the fifteenth century, particularly about the Great Plague, the ascension of King Tarondor, and the removal of the King's House to Minas Anor. So, you look back at the destruction of a ruling house by a plague, and the substitution of another. But my house has multiplied in this plague. 'You are not going back any time soon. There are things to discuss with the Steward.'
Thorongil's gaze became intent. 'News from Dol Amroth?'
'Among other things, yes.' Denethor made his voice cool, slightly mocking. 'You have made no haste to hear that news, though I have been a month and more returned.'
'I have been at the northern garrisons in the last month, Warden, and did not know your news would not wait,' the captain replied in a mild tone, though his expression had hardened.
'You have been in the City for four days and have not asked to see me.'
'Tonight, then.'
'I will send someone when I wish to talk to you.' With a nod, Denethor sauntered away. The captain would not be able to stray far if he had to wait for a summons. It took only a moment to find Finduilas and the others. Guardsmen were erecting a canopy to the side of the yard so there would be shade. First would be the women's contests, testing them for aim and distance. Only a dozen had entered so it should go swiftly. Then the men would shoot, also for aim and distance, but with an added contest with a moving target.
'Friend,' Finduilas greeted him with a light kiss on the cheek. She looked beautiful, with a brush of red across her nose and cheeks from the sun and her hair pulled back in a loose braid. 'I shall be glad for the morrow, no, the day after.'
'Because everyone will be gone!'
'If you are tired, you should rest, not sit in the sun and dust.'
'And miss watching you win?' Finduilas laughed. 'Never!'
'Given the Hound's prowess, to say nothing of Marlong's, I will count myself lucky to make it to the final round.'
Finduilas touched his cheek fondly. 'My faith in you is unshakeable, my love,' she said softly, 'even when you are being an unreasonable ass.'
A horn blew, announcing the start of the tourney. The women archers gathered near the end of the yard to draw lots and see who would shoot first. They started with aim. Each had five arrows to put into her target twenty paces away and earned points depending on where the arrow hit in the target. There would be only two rounds with all of the women, since there were so few, and the high score won.
Moraen was first. Like most of the women competing, she wore loose trousers instead of a skirt to keep her legs free and a snug leather vest over her shirt to hold her bosom still. There may have been some ogling by a few men when she first stepped forward, but by the end of her round, all eyes were on the target, which she had hit with each shot.
The next few women were not as good, though all hit the target at least twice, then came Hilda. The Rohirrim cheered their princess loudly and sang a song about the deadly beauty of the shield maiden. She did not disappoint, landing all of her shots and getting a higher score than Moraen. Wren soon followed and equaled Hilda's effort.
Last was Aiavalë. She wore her riding veil today, the tiny coins jingling against each other as she walked to her place, and a skirt to hide her twisted leg. Denethor could not remember a time when Aiavalë did not use a bow. Turgon had taught her, she said, to strengthen her weak arm and shoulder. When Maiaberiel had been particularly savage in her taunts, Aiavalë would tell Denethor to come with her and they would practice until her rage had calmed and she hit the target perfectly. As befit her, Aiavalë wasted no time now. One, two, three, four, five, her arrows dug into the target with a solid thud, only a few seconds between each shot. They were all in the inner half of the target, giving her a score half again as high as any other.
A loud cheer went up when the last arrow struck. Until his breath came out in a gasp, Denethor did not realize he had been holding his breath. He joined in the cheering, while Finduilas hopped up and down beside him, squealing in delight. Aiavalë regally nodded her head to the crowd and returning to the other archers.
'And so is told our fate for the rest of the day. Thus shall we be humbled by the Steward's House!' Morvorin cheerfully proclaimed. The second round was a repeat of the first, save that Wren improved her score over Hilda.
The butts were moved out to twenty-five paces for the second contest. This time, scores were not kept, as the challenge was to see who could hit the target at the greatest distance. Each archer had three arrows for each distance, and the butts would be put back five paces with each round. All landed at least one arrow at the first distance. By the third round, half were eliminated for not being able to hit the target. At forty paces, only Hilda, Wren and Aiavalë were left. Hilda could fire forty-five paces, but could not hit the target. The butts were moved another five paces out. Denethor knew there were men who could not fire so far as that. Wren and Aiavalë alternated shots to allow their shoulders to rest. On Aiavalë's second attempt, Denethor saw her arms trembling from the strain, but she made the shot. The third told. Aiavalë's arrow fell short while Wren's thumped into the butt. Aiavalë shook her head and declined to try a further distance, bowing to Wren.
The rest of the morning was for the men's aim contest. The targets were set at forty paces, and anyone who did not land at least three of his five arrows was eliminated. Marlong and Morvorin tied with two Ithilien Rangers on the first round, though they were only a point ahead of the next group. Denethor did not try terribly hard this round, content to keep his arrows within the inner half of the target rings, and was content with third. The next round, anyone who failed to hit the target with all arrows was dropped, cutting the field from several score to just over a dozen. Beregar made the cut, tied at second with Denethor and a Ranger, though Imrahil missed an arrow and was out. Thorongil barely landed his last shot to stay in the contest. There were two more rounds, with an instant loss for missing the target, which cost Thorongil and, surprisingly, Morvorin, who was still tied for first with Marlong. In the last round, Denethor applied all of his concentration, thinking of nothing but the feel of the bow in his hands, picturing the perfect arc of the arrow to fly directly into the heart of a charging Orc, a dark spot forty paces away. Each of his arrows hit the center of the target, though none hit directly on top of another, and it was enough to earn a tie with Marlong. Beregar tied for third.
Denethor knew he would win the distance shooting as long as he kept his aim true. He could draw a bow more strongly than anyone else and that was what mattered on distance. Morvorin redeemed himself with a second place in this, landing two arrows to Marlong's one at seventy-five paces. Denethor knew he risked making a fool of himself, but said to move the target to eighty paces for his winning shot. He was not stupid enough to try a second arrow.
All rested and let the worst of the afternoon heat pass while pulleys and lines were set up for the moving targets. In this contest, a weight was dropped from a height which pulled a target along a rope set forty paces out from the archer. You had three arrows and had to hit the target while it still moved. Denethor liked this contest best, even though it was not as certain a win for him as at distance. This was true archery, as on a hunt or in a battle, where what you aimed at did not do you the courtesy of standing still. Only a few dozen even entered, which made Denethor snort in derision. Do you think that hiding your weakness makes you any better in battle? It came down to himself, Marlong and the Ranger again, and Marlong was ahead. The strain of the day was telling on the captain, however, and he grimaced in pain.
'Marlong?' Denethor murmured as they watched the Ranger take his shots.
'The leg.'
'It can be over now.'
Marlong gave him a dirty look. 'Throw the match and I'll put an arrow through your leg. I'm beating you this way or not at all.'
Denethor smiled thinly. 'As you wish. Earn it.'
The Ranger had missed a shot, dropping him to third. Denethor was up for his last try and landed all three shots, though the third struck obliquely and almost dropped off. Marlong could not hide his limp as he walked to take his place. He nodded to the target master, who let go the weight and sent the target flying. The first shot was perfect, catching just as it came out from behind the blind. The second caught it squarely. Marlong's fingers slipped on his last arrow, delaying his shot, forcing him to twist sharply to follow the movement of the target. The arrow hit the target the same time that Marlong hit the ground, grabbing at his leg.
Wren let out a screech and dashed over, shoving people out of the way to get to Marlong's side. She and Denethor helped the captain to stand and hobble to a chair under the canopy. A healer was sent for and Thorongil was soon there to work the pain out of muscle. All the while, Wren sat near Marlong, holding his hand. Denethor watched this, then caught Finduilas' eye. He flicked his glance to Wren clasping Marlong's hand, and raised an eyebrow. Finduilas grinned and rolled her eyes.
When the pain faded, Marlong was declared the winner of that contest and Denethor the overall champion. The sun was almost behind the mountains, and the land was covered with long, soft shadows. Crutches were brought from the garrison for Marlong to use to go back to the City, for he refused to be carried or carted. Wren walked beside him, alternating between scolding him for his stubbornness and worrying over any sign of discomfort.
Finduilas tugged on Denethor's arm. 'Marlong is not the only weakling. I cannot walk all the way to the Citadel. We need to stop for supper.'
'Can you make it to The Messenger's Rest? '
'Yes, but no further.'
Denethor sent Beregar ahead to the tavern with word they were coming, for there were many. The tavern was packed, but no one seemed to mind making room for the Lady and her guests. Many congratulations and blessings were offered to Finduilas and Denethor. Marlong's tale of determination was told and retold, making a number of mugs of ale magically appear before the captain. He drank several and shared the rest with Imrahil, Morvorin and Gethron who sat at his table. Wren had retreated to a corner table with Aiavalë and Aeluin. Food arrived soon after the ale. Finduilas greedily dug into her meal, eating as heartily as a man, which pleased Denethor. When she finished her food, he pushed his own plate over to her and let her eat what she wished of his. He was more thirsty than hungry, in any event, and stuck to the ale.
'Quiet down, everyone. I have something important to say.' Marlong was standing up, holding up his hands for silence. The taproom noise subsided to a loud buzz. 'First, my thanks to my lord and lady, whose happiness and generosity gladden us all.' Mugs and voices were raised in assent. 'Next, I have come to a decision. Long did I walk alone in this world, not caring that my heart was half. When I was thrown down in battle a year past, I almost lost what half I held, thinking I would fight no more and love not ever. My lord has told me that I will command once more, in Anórien. Before, I would have rejoiced at this news, but now I cannot, for I have found the other half of my heart, and am loath to leave it behind.' Marlong looked at Wren and held out his hand. 'Wren, your aim has ever been true with me, though your tongue be sharper than any arrow. Will you make my heart whole and be my wife?'
The room went silent and all looked to Wren. She stood, a haughty expression on her face and slowly walked towards Marlong. 'Is that what you wish, Captain Marlong?'
'It is indeed, Miss Wren.'
'And you think I am inclined towards you?'
'I think you are so inclined, or I be no judge of men.'
'Women are a different matter.'
'I think you have found my company pleasing. I know I wish only for yours.'
'Mayhap you think I will not say nay to your claim rather than be shamed before so many?'
'No. I know you better than that. You would spit in the Great Enemy's eye and cannot be daunted by a mere man like myself. The shame is mine for speaking so, should you spurn me. But yet I wish it, and yet I ask it, and I'll risk shame before all here, for my heart is yours and no other's.'
Wren reached Marlong as he spoke. She took his face between her hands and kissed him firmly to the whooping approval of all there. Stepping away, she said, 'I'll consider it,' and turned to walk off.
'Oh, no you don't!' he exclaimed, grinning, and grabbed her, pulling her close. Wren struggled with him until he finally got her completely wrapped in his arms. 'I beg your pardon, my lord,' Marlong said apologetically to Denethor while Wren wriggled and kicked him in the shin. She was giggling. 'I do not mean to disturb your supper. Do you mind if I go to Anórien a married man?'
Denethor kept his voice dry. 'Had I known you had this much tolerance for pain, Captain, I would have returned you to Ithilien.' Finduilas kicked him in the shin under the table so kicked her back.
Marlong ducked his face to Wren and she whispered in his ear. 'She says yes!' he shouted, 'Wren said she will marry me!' More whooping and pounding of tables ensued while the two kissed. Denethor let it go on for a bit before standing.
'Captain Marlong.' He spoke formally and the room quieted. 'Do you now pledge yourself to wed this woman, Wren of Minas Tirith, ere the year ends?'
Marlong let go of Wren and quickly straightened his clothes. Taking her hand, he answered, 'Yes, Lord Denethor. Before you and all assembled, I pledge upon my honor as a captain of Gondor to wed this woman before year end.'
Finduilas stood. 'Wren, do you accept his pledge and also so swear to wed this man, Marlong of Gondor?'
'Yes, my lady, upon my honor as a maid of the White Tower, I swear to you and all here that I shall wed this man,' Wren proudly replied.
'Then do I declare before all, and before those who watch from afar, that Marlong and Wren are handfasted.' Denethor allowed the whoops to die down. 'A round of ale for all here, on me.' As the chatter increased and attention moved to Wren and Marlong, Denethor gave Finduilas a questioning look, earning a giggle. 'I thought there was some attraction there,' he murmured to her, 'but did not realize it had progressed so far.'
'You have never been a good judge of women, friend,' Finduilas teased. 'Lady Lore and me have been waiting all year for one of them to say something to the other.' It was not long after that Finduilas began to yawn and said she wished to go home. The walk through the warm summer night was pleasant. There were a few lanterns out, but starlight made the stone gleam. People sat on stoops and walls or leaned out windows, talking of the day, offering soft greetings to passers-by. Here and there would be a singer, and they would pause their walk to listen. The City drowsed, content, and waited for her children to drop off to sleep.
Denethor insisted on brushing out Finduilas' hair before they lay down. He sat behind her on the bed, tailor fashion, and worked loose the braid. 'So, you have known all along of this romance?'
'You would have known it, too, had you paid attention. It was there to see.' Finduilas sighed happily. 'I am glad for Wren. Marlong, too, mind you, but most of all for Wren.'
'It has been a difficult year.'
'Yes.' Her head bowed and she rested it on her drawn up knees. 'For many. From loëndë last until this one, so much sorrow.'
Denethor kissed the nape of her neck. 'Too oft were you the one afflicted, Alquallë.'
'This year, it will be different. We shall not fear to hope.'
'Is it wise that you should be without Wren now?'
'She's a woman grown and should be wed! What are you thinking?'
'Just that you will be more burdened as the year goes on,' Denethor slid a hand around her to rest on her belly, 'and you should not be without your favorite companion. At least until the baby comes.'
'I have many to care for me and Wren is sworn to wed before the year ends. You said yourself Marlong will go to Anórien this fall, for you will send Imrahil to him.'
'Yes, but…'
'No.' Finduilas turned to half face him. 'It is time for her to leave. She must make her own way and not be subject to me or Aiavalë any longer. And she is not the only one. Perhaps Beregar should go to the Tower Guard.'
'He stays here. Finduilas, I don't understand. Why would you be rid of those who love you most?'
'Because I cannot keep them captive, Denethor, no matter how docile or willing.' There was a look on her face he had not seen before, ferocious and fearful at once. 'They are like Thorongil, like Halmir. They are lost, and deceive themselves on what they do. Marlong spoke truly this evening. Their hearts are halved and yearn for a mate, and that cannot be me, for my heart is thine. I do not mean simply as wife.' His confusion must have been written on his face, for Finduilas took the brush and laid it aside, then patted the bed so he would lie down. 'Wren has found her love, and Beregar will find his soon. Who knows? Perhaps there is someone for Lady Lore as well.'
'I wish there were. I think I will have to share you with her.'
'Perhaps. I pity Halmir most. He is the most lost of them all.'
Minas Tirith, 4 July, 2978 T.A.
Everyone was departing today. Hilda and her éored set out first thing, Morvorin and Forlong traveling with her. The last of the tent city was being packed up and travelers left for home or the next stop on their route. Denethor spent most of the day in the company of the Steward as the departing lords paid a final visit to before leaving. Ecthelion was very happy to receive congratulations on his prospective grandchild. Aside from a few sly digs, he was genial to Denethor the entire time. There were a few short reports from ministers in the afternoon and then Denethor was free to return to Finduilas.
Denethor only paused a moment at her study door, for he could hear there were people visiting, and headed to his own study. He smelled the pipeweed before he reached the top of the stair. In his study, Mithrandir sat in Finduilas' chair before the cold hearth, head wreathed in blue smoke, Telperien contentedly settled in his lap getting her ears scratched. The wizard nodded genially. 'Good afternoon, Denethor.'
'Who let you in?' Denethor wished to lift the conjuror by his scruffy neck and give him a good shake for presuming to take her chair.
'Oh, no one. A door was open, but all were busy about their tasks, so I did not wish to bother them.' He smiled and scratched the cat's chin. 'But I have had a good companion to keep me company while I waited.'
'You should have let Beregar know. I would have come sooner.'
'My congratulations on your good news, Denethor.' The smile on the old man's face was guileless.
'Thank you.' Denethor retreated to behind his desk. He wished the wizard was not watching him so closely so he could take out the mariner's lanyard and slip it around his neck. The mariner had helped him with one wizard before and would no doubt protect him from another. Denethor compromised by taking its pouch from the desk drawer and laying it on his desk, along with some writing materials, setting it between himself and Mithrandir. 'What have you seen on your travels that I should know?'
'That would take several days to tell, I fear,' the wizard answered, 'but I have some shorter tales. The crop of foals in Rohan this year was large. Winter was mild in the north. The northern paths of Taur-nu-Fuin are open to bold travelers, though most still skirt the northern edge.' Denethor paid close attention, trying to discern where the wizard had wandered. 'Bain, son of Bard, is the new King of Dale.'
Dale, Dale, where had he heard this before? "Erebor, Esgaroth and Dale. Together they are larger." Thorongil's account of the north. Denethor wondered if the captain had told the wizard of that conversation. 'Dale, where is that?'
'North of Rhovanion, east of the forest, near Erebor. Dale itself is on no map I know of, for it is a small place. I think you would call Bain a village headman, but he has the heart of a king.'
'What of King Bard?' Denethor was amused that Lark's husband would have the same name as a king.
'My friend, the burglar, thought him a stout fellow. Bard was a very good singer and guided his people wisely. He is the only man I know who has slain a dragon, though that is not a talent greatly in demand these days,' Mithrandir replied absently, though his eyes twinkled in amusement.
Denethor could not tell if the wizard was joking or not. 'Interesting. King or headman, I trust the folk of Dale are pleased with Bain?'
'Yes, they are.'
'Have you come to see the effects of the plague?'
'I did. Word of it came to me upon the road. I am glad that it did not do greater damage.'
'Where on the road? Where did you hear it?'
The wizard's eyebrows bristled, casting his eyes into shadow. 'Near Tharbad.'
'From whom?'
'Someone whose word I trust.'
'Advise me.'
Now Mithrandir's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 'Advise you? On what?'
'On things you know. On things I do not know, and should. Just as you advise the Steward.'
'Would you become a pupil?'
'If I find the lessons to be of value, yes.'
'If I walked west from Bree, where would I next find a good mug of ale?'
The look of confusion on the old man's face was well worth the conversation. 'West from…?' Mithrandir smoked his pipe, searching for hidden meanings. 'The first good ale would be in Whitfurrows, at The Fat Badger. Willem Brockhouse, Old Will, he makes every traveler with coin welcome.'
'What did you advise the Steward?'
'About taverns on the old Dwarf road?'
'If you spoke of that, yes.'
'I said he should pay heed to his counselors.'
'Should we strike Umbar?'
The wizard sat silent for a long while, and the smoke from his pipe made the room hazy. Denethor laid a hand on the pouch holding the lanyard. When Mithrandir spoke, it was as soft as the summer twilight. 'I wish that men would not heed dark whispers and wicked thoughts. The children of Umbar have no need of plagues.'
'We have considered such things before, Mithrandir.'
'Aye, we have, Denethor.'
'You still carry your staff.'
'Do you still handle fire?' The voice was still soft, but there was no gentleness to it now.
'I lay my hands upon the stone and it mourns.' Mithrandir's eyes glinted under his great brows. 'I go upon the Sea and it pulls on my blood as a tide. I saw towers and the world was dimmed, yet still I love it. An old man the color of fog bade me to have hope even as he said I am doomed.'
'Upon the Sea.'
'Upon the Sea.' The wizard shivered and turned his face away. Denethor realized he was clutching the lanyard's pouch tightly in his hand. 'Why won't you help us? You speak of destruction and downfall, but you withhold your hand and leave us in confusion.'
'What would you have me do, Denethor?' Mithrandir would not look at him.
'In this very room you said that you once drove the Enemy from a tower.'
'And you would have me do so again?' The wizard laughed bitterly. 'Sauron allowed himself to be moved. I am not fool enough to think it was a defeat.'
'No, not that. A lesser task. I would have Angrenost in the hands of the Lost, not Curunír, but Thorongil says it would take a wizard to dislodge him.'
'I do not command Curunír.'
'I care not who commands him. I want him out of the tower.' The wizard shook his head. 'You wish us to have hope against what you yourself fear.'
'Yes, Denethor. I do.'
'When will death find you?'
'When it is time.'
Denethor felt light headed from the smoke. Telperien hopped down from the wizard, trotted across the study, and jumped into his lap. He tried to pick her up and put her on the floor, but somehow ended up cradling her in his arms while she nuzzled his beard. Denethor tipped his chair back against the wall and put his feet up on the corner of his desk to wait out the wizard. Telperien snuggled against him, her purr more a sensation than a sound. We must hope where even the Powers fear. The soft weight on his chest mewed and wiggled. Denethor's head fell forward, lips brushing delicate flesh. The baby twitched in his arms, then went limp, its sleep careless and complete. It knew nothing of fear and did not need hope. They had not found him yet. Denethor pulled his child more closely to him before falling asleep himself, the child's breath like a soft breeze of summer on his cheek, warm and sweet.
Characters introduced in this chapter, in order of appearance:
- Haldan – Lieutenant of Minas Tirith garrison, 33 years old.
- Erellont – Lieutenant of the Tower Guard, 34 years old.


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Can We Improve the Science of Solving Global Coordination Problems? Anders Sandberg
Anders Sandberg discusses solving coordination problems:
Includes discussion on game theory including:the prisoners dilemma (and the iterated form), the tit-for-tat strategy, and reciprocal altruism. He then discusses politics, and why he considers himself a 'heretical libertarian' – then contrasts the benefits and risks of centralized planning vs distributed trial & error and links this in with discussion on Existential Risk – centralizing very risky projects at the risk of disastrous coordination failures. He discusses groupthink and what forms of coordination work best. Finally he emphasises the need for a science of coordination – a multidisciplinary approach including:
- Philosophy
- Political Science
- Economics
- Game Theory
Also see the tutorial on the Prisoners Dilemma:
And Anders paper on AGI models.
Anders discusses similar issues in 'The thermodynamics of advanced civilizations' – Is the current era the only chance at setting up the game rules for our future light cone? (Also see here)
Further reading
The Coordination Game: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coordination_game

subset: commoncrawl


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COMMERCE CITY, Colo., Nov. 15 (UPI) -- U.S. authorities crushed 6 tons of ivory tusks and trinkets from butchered elephants, appealing to end an illegal $10 billion trade funding crime and terrorism.
"By taking this action, the United States will help raise the profile of the issue and inspire other nations," Deputy Assistant Secretary of State Judy Garber said at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge, 8 miles northeast of downtown Denver.
"All of us have to step up our game and work together to put an end to this before we lose the species forever," she said in remarks quoted by The Denver Post.
Poached ivory may have financed the September Somali terrorist attack on Kenya's Westgate shopping mall that killed at least 72 people, Garber said.
Secretary of State John Kerry offered a $1 million reward Thursday for information that could help end the Xaysavang Network that "facilitates the killing of endangered elephants, rhinos and other species for products such as ivory."
The Laos-based criminal syndicate has affiliates in South Africa, Mozambique, Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam and China, the State Department said in a statement.
The group's profits fund narcotics, arms and human trafficking, the department said.
At least 25,000 elephants were illegally killed in 2012, and even more this year, said the U.N.-backed Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species, also known as the Washington Convention.
The latest slaughter figure is the highest since CITES banned ivory commerce in 1989.
U.S. Assistant Interior Secretary Dan Ashe compared the intensifying elephant killings to the great slaughter of American bison in the late 19th century that brought the number of bison remaining alive in North America to as low as 541.
"We have a moral obligation to respond," he told U.S. officials and wildlife conservation leaders at the arsenal to witness the crush in a giant blue rock-grinder near a warehouse. "You have the chance to crush wildlife trafficking and save these magnificent creatures."
The United States bans the import and export of African ivory. But it does not ban the sales of ivory that arrived into the country before 1989.
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service will donate the pulverized ivory to a still-to-be-determined museum for a monument to slaughtered elephants, officials said.
Officials rejected the idea the crush would fuel demand for illegal ivory.
"This ivory would never be made available to the market," the Fish and Wildlife Service said in a statement. "Its destruction has no impact on the overall supply and does not create any incentive for poaching.
"By demonstrating our commitment to combat poaching and illegal trade, and to arrest and prosecute people who engage in these activities, we are providing a strong disincentive to poachers and wildlife traffickers," it said.


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Richmond Police Department Strategic and Succession Plan 2019-2021 (PDF)
We are pleased to introduce the Richmond Police Department's Strategic and Succession Plan, which will guide the police department forward in times of change. This plan is a roadmap that will assist us in addressing the most critical issues facing the community while taking into account certain realities associated with our ability to deliver effective police services, increased service demands, reduced operating budgets, rising pension costs, recruitment and retention challenges, and loss of institutional knowledge.
This plan was developed to align our efforts with the city council's public safety priorities:
• Zero homicides• Effective police management• Emergency planning and preparedness• Safe interactions with the mentally ill • Homelessness
The 2019-2021 Strategic Plan was developed through a collaborative process with internal and external workgroups to assess the police department's strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats. The purpose of the internal evaluation was to find a pathway to continue delivering professional and effective police services during times of change and uncertainty. We are confident this guide will assist us in aligning our resources and efforts to ensure Richmond is a safe place to live, work, and visit.


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The University of Notre Dame continues to grow as a resource for rare disease research
Richard Taylor
This coming fall, McCourtney Hall will open as the first dedicated interdisciplinary research building at the University of Notre Dame. Richard Taylor, professor of chemistry and biochemistry, was part of a team who managed the development and construction of the new building. As he completes a three-year term as associate vice president for research in June of this year, he will continue his research on drug discovery for rare genetic diseases, like NGLY1 deficiency, when he and other members of the Warren Family Research Center for Drug Discovery and Development move into the building this summer.
Those with NGLY1 deficiency cannot synthesize the enzyme N-glycanase and present with varying symptoms including developmental delays, movement disorders, diminished reflexes, and more. However, the symptom each NGLY1 deficiency child has in common is their inability to produce tears. For the past year, Taylor has led a group of Notre Dame researchers working to develop a treatment for this rare disease in collaboration with the Grace Science Foundation and the pharmaceutical company, Retrophin, Inc.
"Rare disease research has its own set of unique challenges," said Taylor. "Its an area with limited resources, so the work you do is even more valuable to those who are looking for solutions." Taylor is the Warren Center's interim director and got involved with rare disease research more than a decade ago after being inspired by the Parseghian family and the Ara Parseghian Medical Research Foundation, which works to develop a treatment for Niemann-Pick Type C (NPC). Taylor also conducts drug discovery research for the Foundation.
Taylor and his research team of seven graduate students prepare molecules through chemical and biological synthesis and study their potential therapeutic value for diseases such as NPC, NGLY1 deficiency, cancer, and Alzheimer's disease. Chemical synthesis is the preparation of unique compounds from commercially available, simple chemicals, and converting them into complex structures. From a complementary perspective, biological synthesis uses microorganisms like bacteria and manipulating their genetic code to coax them to make distinct compounds.
"The multidisciplinary group in my lab develops these technologies to prepare molecules in an effort to find which compounds may impact the disease so that we can learn more about the biology behind it," said Taylor. "Our goal is to find lead compounds for the treatment of the disease and some of the recent compounds we have developed may also be valuable for a number of rare genetic diseases."
These compounds are being added to a collection of unique chemicals being organized by the Warren Center to create the Notre Dame Chemical Compound Collection. The collection allows for better organization of the products and byproducts from past and present research projects. This way, the Center can have the compounds biologically assayed for a number of indications and help initiate new collaborations and the translation of discoveries to patient outcomes. The Warren Center provides additional resources and services like the compound collection to faculty on campus working on cancer, infectious diseases, and rare diseases.
To learn more about Richard Taylor, please visit his faculty profile.
Richard Taylor / Associate Vice President for Research
Notre Dame Research / University of Notre Dame
firstname.lastname@example.com / 574.631.7765
research.nd.edu / @UNDResearch
About Notre Dame Research:
The University of Notre Dame is a private research and teaching university inspired by its Catholic mission. Located in South Bend, Indiana, its researchers are advancing human understanding through research, scholarship, education, and creative endeavor in order to be a repository for knowledge and a powerful means for doing good in the world. For more information, please see research.nd.edu or @UNDResearch.
Originally published by Brandi Klingerman at research.nd.edu on July 01, 2016.


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Deep Tissue Massage Treatment, 2nd Ed.
$76.95 $52.00
This significantly revised new edition features an easy-to-use format that provides basic theory and assessment of neuromuscular conditions followed by an extensive overview of techniques specific to deep tissue massage, including trigger point therapy, friction techniques, myofascial techniques, and stretching.
Step-by-step treatment routines for the 22 most commonly encountered neuromuscular conditions are clearly outlined using detailed descriptions and illustrations side-by-side. Downloadable assessment forms and 90-minutes of video on proper deep tissue massage techniques are included on the companion Evolve website.
Key Features:
* Excellent organization and standard layout for each condition makes information easy to find and follow.
* Step-by-step routines for treatment of conditions are outlined using clear descriptions and illustrations side-by-side.
* Coverage of the most common techniques includes trigger point therapy, friction techniques, myofascial techniques, and stretching to give you an excellent base from which to start incorporating deep tissue massage into massage practice.
* Full color art program features a visually striking design with vibrant photos and illustrations that appeal to visual learners.
* Pedagogical features include learning objectives, key terms, and an end-of-book glossary to help you focus on key content.
* Appendices provide key resources on trigger points and pain referral patterns, indications/contraindications for deep tissues massage, and blank assessment forms for use in practice.
* Student resources on Evolve companion website provide downloadable assessment forms and videos of deep tissue techniques.
New to this Edition:
* NEW! 4-color art program features all new photos of the best techniques, body mechanics, and draping to better illustrate content.
* NEW! 90 minutes of video on the Evolve companion website vividly demonstrate the proper techniques needed to master deep tissue massage.
* NEW! Expanded coverage of theory and assessment gives you the background you need on documentation, techniques, and assessments before you begin learning how to perform deep tissue massage.
* NEW! Anatomic illustrations provide a refresher on pertinent anatomy right before the book heads into treatment coverage to reinforce the essential relationship between anatomy and proper massage.
* NEW! Expert reviewers, including Joe Muscolino, Sandy Fritz, and more, ensure material is accurate and appropriate for courses on deep tissue.
* NEW! Author Jeffrey Simancek, former Curriculum Manager for Corinthian and current massage educator, brings extensive career school teaching and curriculum experience to the book.


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1. Appreciate all that your body can do. Every day your body carries you closer to your
dreams. Celebrate all of the amazing things your body does for you –running, dancing,
breathing, laughing, dreaming, etc.
2. Keep a top-10 list of things you like about yourself — things that aren't related to how
much you weigh or what you look like. Read your list often. Add to it as you become
aware of more things to like about you.
3. Remind yourself that "true beauty" is not simply skin-deep. When you feel good about
yourself and who you are, you carry yourself with a sense of confidence, self-acceptance,
and openness that makes you beautiful regardless of whether you physically look like a
supermodel. Beauty is a state of mind, not a state of your body.
4. Look at yourself as a whole person. When you see yourself in a mirror or in your mind,
choose not to focus on specific body parts. See yourself as you want others to see you — as
a whole person.
5. Surround yourself with positive people. It is easier to feel good about yourself and your
body when you are around others who are supportive and who recognize the importance
of liking yourself just as you naturally are.
6. Shut down those voices in your head that tell you your body is not "right" or that you are a
"bad" person. You can overpower those negative thoughts with positive ones. The next
time you start to tear yourself down, build yourself back up with a few quick affirmations
that work for you.
7. Wear clothes that are comfortable and that make you feel good about your body. Work
with your body, not against it.
8. Become a critical viewer of social and media messages. Pay attention to images, slogans, or attitudes that make you feel bad about yourself or your body. Protest these messages:
write a letter to the advertiser or talk back to the image or message.
9. Do something nice for yourself — something that lets your body know you appreciate it.
Take a bubble bath, make time for a nap, find a peaceful place outside to relax.
10. Use the time and energy that you might have spent worrying about food, calories, and your
weight to do something to help others. Sometimes reaching out to other people can help
you feel better about yourself and can make a positive change in our world.


text: CTN Community Update is a program that airs weekly on Channel 15 in Coon Rapids. A new show premieres every Friday at 5 p.m. Be sure to tune in each week to find out what's happening in your own backyard.The program keeps residents informed about their city government, schools, courts, civic organizations and other important happenings in the Coon Rapids and Anoka County area. Our coverage features stories you won't find on major media - they're stories unique and special to our local area.


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Hey all! Tamie Snow of Roxycraft.com here!
I wanted to announce that I have integrated my Pimp Stitch Embroidery Patterns into Roxycraft.com and they are now available for sale!
Drop by and check it out!
I've also completely redesigned my website and there's loads of new Amigurumi patterns to check out!


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Ultrasound technology could soon experience a significant upgrade that would enable it to produce high-quality, high-resolution images thanks to the development of a new key material by a team of researchers that includes a professor in Texas A&M University's Department of Biomedical Engineering.
The material, which converts ultrasound waves into optical signals that can be used to produce an image, is the result of a collaborative effort by Texas A&M Professor Vladislav Yakovlev and researchers from King's College London, The Queen's University of Belfast and the University of Massachusetts Lowell. Their findings appear in the current issue of Advanced Materials.
(Pictured above: Professor Yakovlev examines a prototype of the transducer, which converts ultrasound waves into optical signals.)
The engineered material, known as a "metamaterial," offers significant advantages over conventional ultrasound technology, which generates images by converting ultrasound waves into electrical signals, Yakovlev explains. Although that technology has advanced throughout the years — think of the improvement in sonogram images — it is still largely constrained by bandwidth and sensitivity limitations, he says. These limitations, he adds, have been the chief obstacle when it comes to producing high-quality images that can serve as powerful diagnostic tools.
The metamaterial developed by Yakovlev and his colleagues is not subject to those limitations, primarily because it converts ultrasound waves into optical signals rather than electrical ones. The optical processing of the signal does not limit the bandwidth or sensitivity of the transducer (converter) — and that's important for producing highly detailed images, Yakovlev says.
"A high bandwidth allows you to sample the change of distance of the acoustic waves with a high precision," Yakovlev notes. "This translates into an image that shows greater detail. Greater sensitivity enables you to see deeper in tissue, suggesting we have the potential to generate images that might have previously not been possible with conventional ultrasound technology."
In other words, this new material may enable ultrasound devices to see what they haven't yet been able to see. That advancement could significantly bolster a technology that is employed in a variety of biomedical applications. In addition to being used for visualizing fetuses during routine and emergency care, ultrasound is used for diagnostic purposes in incidents of trauma and even as a means of breaking up tissue and accelerating the effects of drugs therapies.
(Pictured right: An optical signal, represented by the red arrow, comes into contact with the metamaterial and interprets the ultrasound waves, resulting in an altered optical signal that is processed to produce a high-quality image.)
While Yakovlev's research is not yet ready for integration into ultrasound technology, it has successfully demonstrated how conventional technology can be substantially improved by using the newly engineering material created by his team, he notes.
The material, he notes, consists of golden nanorods embedded in a polymer known as polypyrolle. An optical signal is sent into this material where it interacts with and is altered by incoming ultrasound waves before passing through the material. A detection device would then read the altered optical signal, analyzing the changes in its optical properties to process a higher resolution image, Yakovlev explains.
"We developed a material that would enable optical signal processing of ultrasound," Yakovlev says. "Nothing like this material exists in nature so we engineered a material that would provide the properties we needed. It has greater sensitivity and broader bandwidth. We can go from 0-150 MHz without sacrificing the sensitivity. Current technology typically experiences a substantial decline in sensitivity around 50 MHz.
"This metamaterial can efficiently convert an acoustic wave into an optical signal without limiting the bandwidth of the transducer, and its potential biomedical applications represent the first practical implementation of this metamaterial."
Yakovlev's collaborators are Wayne Dickson and Anatoly Zayats of King's College London; John McPhillips, Antony Murphy and Robert Pollard of The Queen's University of Belfast; and Viktor Podolskiy of the University of Massachusetts Lowell.
Contact: Professor Vladislav Yakovlev at (979) 458-2326 or via email at email@example.com.
Original article link found here: http://engineering.tamu.edu/news/2013/03/06/new-material-developed-at-texas-am-could-improve-ultrasound-technology


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Stephen Quinn, UFC - Across from the bright lights of the New York City skyline, the Ultimate Fighting Championship will return to Newark, New Jersey Saturday night, for what promises to be an action-packed night of fights that includes two championship belts that are up for grabs.
Across from the bright lights of the New York City skyline, the Ultimate Fighting Championship will return to Newark, New Jersey Saturday night, for what promises to be an action-packed night of fights that includes two championship belts that are up for grabs.
In the evening's first championship bout, heavyweights Frank Mir and Shane Carwin will battle for the interim heavyweight title, and in the main event, Canadian superstar Georges St-Pierre puts his welterweight title on the line against hard-hitting British contender Dan Hardy. Read on for the fantasy breakdown of the co-main events of UFC 111, as well as the lightweight showdown between Jim Miller and Mark Bocek.
For the past three weeks, we have all been given access into the training camps of both Georges St-Pierre and Dan Hardy on Spike TV's Primetime series. On Saturday night, the talk is over and St-Pierre, who has long sat supreme atop the welterweight division, will take on the heavy-handed Hardy.
Currently riding a six fight winning streak, Canadian superstar St-Pierre is looking to continue his reign as the welterweight champion. Making his debut inside of the Octagon at UFC 46, St-Pierre came into the UFC with one goal in mind – to become a world champion. After beating Karo Parisyan and Jay Hieron in his first two trips inside the Octagon, St-Pierre took on Matt Hughes for the welterweight crown. Unnerved at the prospect of taking on his fighting hero, St-Pierre was caught in an armbar as the first round expired. A rejuvenated St-Pierre then on to win five straight fights – with notable wins coming over Sean Sherk and BJ Penn. After his long string of victories, St-Pierre faced off with Hughes once again. This time, however, no matter how much he respected Hughes, he knew that once the Octagon gate closed, he had to have little respect for the then champion. That different mindset may have been all he needed – GSP beat Hughes in a one-sided affair to win the welterweight title. Looking as if he was going to be the champion for a long time, GSP, who was a heavy favorite in his first title defense against Matt Serra, his the lowest point of his career when the Long Island native shocked the champ by winning the fight in less than four minutes. After that fight, GSP knew that regardless of his opponent, there are no easy fights in the UFC. Looking back on the loss, it may have been the best thing to happen in his career. Showing the true champion that he is, GSP has put together a six fight winning streak against a "who's who" of the welterweight division. After beating Josh Koscheck, he then went on to beat Matt Hughes to win the interim title. After putting UFC gold around his waist, GSP has looked nearly perfect – with wins over Serra, Jon Fitch, Penn, and Thiago Alves. On Saturday night, he's looking to continue the business of cleaning out the division.
British sensation Hardy is looking to shock the world on Saturday night by bringing a UFC title back to the United Kingdom for the first time. Making the most of his four-fight tenure inside of the Octagon, the charismatic Hardy knows this will be the hardest test of his professional life. With wins over Akihiro Gono, Rory Markham, Marcus Davis, and most recently Mike Swick, Hardy quickly moved up the welterweight ladder. Although few outside of his inner circle are giving him a shot at winning, he believes his game plan and fighting style will be precisely what it takes to beat the current champ.
In St-Pierre's last six fights, it's hard to find a hole in his fight game. And considering his top-notch wrestling, speed, cardio, and ability to work out of any position, it may be hard to find an area where Hardy holds a significant edge. But if you go back to UFC 69, that may be just what Hardy is looking for. Known for his pinpoint accuracy and powerful punches, Hardy knows that if he connects, GSP may go down. Although GSP is arguably the most complete fighter in the game today, the one thing some people question is his ability to take a punch. That is exactly what Hardy wants to hear. When the Octagon gate closes, look for GSP to use his elite wrestling ability to take Hardy down and pound his way to victory. If GSP is able to bring him down at will, Hardy may be in for a long night, but if he's able to keep the fight standing, the odds will start going in Hardy's favor to score an upset knockout.
Due to a bout with diverticulitis that has kept current heavyweight champion Brock Lesnar from defending his title since July of 2009, the UFC has been forced to put an interim title up for grabs on Saturday night – with the winner getting a shot at Lesnar sometime this year.
After starting his UFC career by winning five of his first six fights inside the Octagon, Frank Mir quickly grabbed the attention of the mixed martial arts world at UFC 48 when he submitted Tim Sylvia to win the heavyweight crown. After that fight, it looked as if he would be the champion for a long time to come. But unfortunately for him, he was never able to defend that title. On a September day near his Las Vegas home in 2004, Mir was involved in a motorcycle accident that broke his femur and tore all the ligaments in his knee. With his return to the Octagon in question, he was forced to give up his title. Other than Mir and his closest friends and family, few believed that he could make it back to the top. But after a nearly two-year layoff, Mir returned to the Octagon with the hopes of getting back the title he felt never left him. In his first fight back, Mir didn't look like the same fighter that had won UFC gold the last time he fought. After losing to Márcio Cruz, the questions about his fighting ability continued. Still not looking like the same fighter, Mir was able to pull off a lackluster victory over Dan Christison, but he then suffered another setback by being knocked out in less than two minutes by Brandon Vera. To make matters worse, he suffered a shoulder injury while training to fight Antoni Hardonk at UFN 9. Mir finally took on Hardonk at UFC 74, and nearly three years after his accident, Mir finally started to look like the fighter that once held the heavyweight title. After winning a one-sided fight by submission against Hardonk, Mir was quoted as saying in the Octagon, "I'm back." Yes, he was. Mir then took on UFC newcomer Brock Lesnar. Showing the heart that some people had questioned in the past, Mir was flustered early and was on the verge of defeat when he caught Lesnar in a knee bar. By beating Lesnar, Mir had finally made his way back into title contention. At UFC 92, Mir beat Antônio Rodrigo Nogueira in the second round via TKO. Now with the interim title, Mir, once again, took on Brock Lesnar to unify the heavyweight title. Unlike the first time the two faced one another, Mir was unable to stop the powerful storm of Lesnar – losing by TKO in the second round. In response, Mir bulked up to compete with the giants of the division, and rebounded with a first round win over Cheick Kongo. Now he gets a shot at the belt again, with a rubber match with Lesnar being the ultimate prize should he win on Saturday.
Fighting out of Denver, Colorado, Shane Carwin hasn't wasted any time making an impression inside the Octagon. Carwin made his debut at UFC 84 with a forty-four second knockout victory over Christian Wellisch. In his next two victories, Carwin beat Neil Wain and Gabriel Gonzaga in a combined two minutes and forty seconds. After this string of success, Carwin was scheduled to fight Brock Lesnar. But due to illness, Lesnar was forced to withdraw from the fight. Carwin will finally get the opportunity to fight Lesnar should he win on Saturday night.
With an interim heavyweight title on the line, it will be interesting to see how both fighters respond if the fight nears the twenty-five minute mark. For Carwin, this may be the biggest question mark for him. With all three of his UFC fights lasting less than a total round, people are questioning how he will respond if this fight goes into the fourth or fifth. For Mir, people have always questioned his cardio – look for him to try and silence the critics the longer the fight goes.
Seemingly increasing his standup ability with every time he enters the Octagon, expect Mir to try and keep the fight standing – hoping that he ends it the same way he did against Kongo, with a quick knockdown followed by a submission. Although he prefers to be on his feet, he is still very dangerous on his back. Potentially the best jiu-jitsu artist in the heavyweight division, Mir may only be a Carwin mistake away from ending the fight with a submission. With the size of Carwin, the one place Mir does not want to end up in is pinned against the cage with Carwin on top.
For Carwin, a Division II National champion wrestler, there's no place he'd rather be than on the mat with Mir pinned against the cage – working his ground and pound. However, in order for Carwin to bring Mir to the canvas, he will need to get into striking distance. And although Carwin may not be as polished a boxer as Mir, he still has the power to end the fight with a single punch.
Fighting in his home state of New Jersey, Jim Miller wants nothing more than to put on a good performance in front of his local fans. Winner of three straight fights, Miller knows that a fourth consecutive victory in the lightweight division will put him right in the thick of things.
A native of Ontario, Mark Bocek is currently riding a three fight winning streak as well. And although Bocek holds multiple titles in jiu-jitsu competitions across the globe, nothing would compare to putting UFC gold around his waist, so by putting together an impressive victory this weekend, he knows that he will be one step closer to fighting in a five round championship fight.
With the jiu-jitsu skills of Bocek, look for Miller to try and keep the fight standing for as long as he can. He knows that there's no other place Bocek would rather be than in the guard of his opponent. If the fight ends up on the canvas, look for Miller – who is a BJJ brown belt - to be comfortable, but still looking to get the fight back on its feet, where he holds a decided edge over his foe.
Special Feature
Miami Is The Place To Be | UFC 299: O'Malley vs Vera 2


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A smile makeover is a comprehensive smile-rejuvenation plan that's uniquely suited to your facial features and aesthetic preferences. The results can be quite dramatic — both in terms of how you will look and how you will feel.
Here are the major steps involved:
Take a look. The makeover process is all about giving you the smile of your dreams. So take a good look at your smile and note what you like and don't like about it. Some people want their smile to look "perfect" — and to them, that means completely straight, uniformly white teeth. Others like a slightly more natural look, and are not displeased by slight gaps or shade variations. There are lots of decisions to make, but don't worry — dentists are skilled at helping you sort it all out!
Some questions you can ask yourself are:
Share your thoughts. Communication is an extremely important part of the smile makeover process. At the first makeover consultation, it helps if you describe what you would like to change in as much detail as possible. Bring along pictures of smiles you like, or of how your own smile used to look. Your makeover dentist will have some thoughts to share with you as well because dentists are trained to look at smiles in terms of facial balance. In other words, a dentist will look not only at how the elements of a smile (teeth, lips and gums) relate to each other, but also how they blend in with the face as a whole.
Make a plan. An important part of planning a smile makeover is a comprehensive dental exam. Cosmetic dentistry offers an amazing array of lifelike tooth restorations and treatments, but first, any conditions in your mouth that may jeopardize a good result must be taken care of. If your teeth are discolored, for example, the reason must be determined. You may have an underlying dental disease that needs to be treated before whitening your teeth; otherwise, the whitening may not last.
Try it out. A smile makeover is an investment that is meant to last. That's why many of the procedures performed are irreversible. So if you are contemplating some changes, it's a great idea to try them out before you fully commit to them. There are many ways to preview the results: computer imaging, 3D models, and even placing temporary restorations on your teeth so you can see what the final results will look and feel like in your own mouth. This also allows a fine-tuning of the makeover plan.
A "trial smile" is a great way to eliminate unknowns in the makeover process. But when it's all done, there's still one thing you may not be prepared for: how great it feels to flash your new smile to the world!
Monday 8am-6pm
Tuesday 8am-6pm
Wednesday 8am -6pm
Thursday 8am -7pm
Friday 8am -6pm
Saturday 9am-2pm (once per month, please call for availability)
Sunday - Closed
2000 Clements Bridge Road
Deptford, NJ 08096
Phone: (856) 848-6006
Fax: (856) 848-6969


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We are a large; two form entry, primary situated on the outskirts of Luton. At Wigmore we aim to give every child the best start possible to their education and continue high quality teaching and learning throughout their time in our school.


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WASHINGTON — Galveston, Texas, is betting on the Ike Dike, a proposed 60-mile storm gate named after the raging hurricane that walloped the island and the rest of the Houston area four years ago, leaving more than 70 people dead and $30 billion in damage.
Norfolk, Va., is trying to strengthen its string bean of a storm-drainage system that can't absorb mild flooding from high tides, much less days-long deluges from hurricanes or nor'easters.
And Maryland is looking for help from nature itself, buying up wetlands and marshes that officials hope will thrive in coming decades and provide buffers against surging stormwater.
Sandy's battering of the Northeast provided a preview of a terrifying future for many coastal areas — one potentially marred by increasingly frequent superstorms, with fierce winds and massive flooding.
As a result, ideas to protect low-lying coastal cities — even those ideas once dismissed as too expensive or far-fetched — are getting a second look from officials and scientists worried that climate change will spawn a succession of ever-more-violent Sandys.
Some cities are looking into seeding oyster reefs and sea grass beds off Long Island and the Delmarva Peninsula's Atlantic coast; these natural protections, scientists say, could help absorb the first wave of surging waters before the coastline is overwhelmed. Other areas are considering adding massive amounts of sand to their shorelines to soak up some of the surge before it reaches the next set of heavy blockers, sand dunes.
''In the aftermath of the storm, everybody wants to do what they wish they had done before the storm,'' said Jim Titus, an expert on rising sea levels. ''A lot of this stuff, they're starting the process of figuring out.''
Along the coast, anxiety is growing even as cash-strapped local, state, and federal governments struggle to come up with funding to study and develop storm-protection schemes. Complicating the efforts are continued partisan fights in Washington and in states over the cause and impact of climate change.
Caught in the middle are scientists who study the problem and say they haven't gotten adequate support. They worry that it will take an even more destructive storm to end the political gridlock.
Hurricane Ike was a beast when it hit the Houston area in September 2008, ripping into Galveston and shutting down a petrochemical plant, causing fuel shortages. Four years later, William Merrill, the Texas A&M University professor who first envisioned the Ike Dike as a defense against storms, only recently got significant funding for his work.
His proposal: Build a barrier in the Gulf of Mexico stretching the length of the island of Galveston and the Bolivar Peninsula, with gates that swing open to allow boats into the bay and close to block storm surges of up to 17 feet.
Galveston provided $250,000 for the project, Merrill said, allowing his research to continue and raising his hopes that he'll eventually convince officials that the $6 billion structure is worth it.
''We're slowly building the political will [to construct it],'' said Merrill, the George P. Mitchell chairman for marine science at Texas A&M University at Galveston. ''I just hope we don't have to wait until thousands of people are killed.''
Other coastal areas have been stymied by partisan differences over the environment.
In North Carolina, the Legislature voted this year to prohibit any regulations related to sea-level rise or global warming along the state's coast before 2016.